watch her change. I put my elbows on my knees and folded my hands together, leaning forward. She was an arm’s length away, but I didn’t reach for her.
“Look straight ahead, Monica.”
I knew what it did to her when I kept her in stasis. I’d known the first night when I’d sent her upstairs naked, and I knew now, after my birthday party, with the canary diamond heavy on her finger, that her body was changing before my eyes. In trying to stand still, she was acutely aware of my gaze on her. If she stood still and I kept my concentration, she’d be soaking wet and very close before I even touched her.
Her nipples hardened in the cool night air. The triangle between her legs was a promise of compliance and unyielding pleasure. The ocean outside the open balcony door would be the background noise to the melody of her cries.
Slowly, I reached my hand forward and touched her belly. It quivered like the undulating ocean behind me. I drew the finger down between her legs and stroked inside her thigh. Her body reacted involuntarily, and I took my hand back.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I said. “You’re already bruised everywhere I want to put my dick.” I kissed her navel then pulled away.
“My mouth is in great shape,” she said.
“So is mine.” I stroked her gently, awakening her nipples. “What if I laid you on that bed and pulled your legs apart. Just the tip of my tongue on your cunt. If I was gentle, would you come, do you think?”
“Yes. I would.”
“Do you like your ring?”
“I love it.”
I stood and wedged my foot between hers, pushing her legs apart. She was used to it and spread them without a stumble. I went behind her. She was framed by the ocean, the curves of her ass blue and black in the evening light. I got on my knees, close to her so she could feel my breath. I waited until the tension was so taut it felt as if it would break like rock candy.
I brushed my finger inside her thigh. She was painted in angry bruises there too. I’d stopped feeling guilty about inflicting damage; I knew the difference between hurt and harm.
“I’m sorry about the party. About worrying you. I was joking, not thinking.”
“I’ll die if you do that again.”
I brushed my fingers over her soft wet lips, slightly touching the dampness.
“I just…”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“That hospital. The smells. The colors. You. It claws at me. In my sleep, I hear the doctors whispering. I dream you’re dying in a room I can’t find. When I think of it, I just think of you in pain. It hurt me. And I’m sorry I’m being self-involved.”
“You’re not being self-involved.” I kissed the small of her back.
“I dread it. I know I’m going to have to go back there with you, and the dread hangs on me.”
I rested my cheek against the curve of her spine and put my arms around her waist. She didn’t move her hands, ever obedient when in scene. I could hear her lungs through her rib cage as they let out short, sharp breaths.
“I didn’t give you permission to cry,” I said gently.
“I’m sorry.”
I pulled away from her and stood. “On the bed, goddess. Facedown. Hands under your thighs. And face the window.”
She did it, and when she automatically put her ass up in ready position, my dick went completely rigid. I pressed her ass down until she was totally flat against the bed. She watched me peel off my clothes. I put pajama bottoms on so I wouldn’t distract her.
“Wait here.”
I went into the bathroom for lotion. The last time I’d done that, I’d seen her negative pregnancy test. I thought about that thing every time I went in there. The burden of it was so heavy that I often went down the hall to piss.
“Are we still in scene?” she asked when I sat at the edge of the bed.
“No.” I put a blob of lotion in my hand and closed it into a fist to warm the lotion.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my birthday, and I can do
“Look straight ahead, Monica.”
I knew what it did to her when I kept her in stasis. I’d known the first night when I’d sent her upstairs naked, and I knew now, after my birthday party, with the canary diamond heavy on her finger, that her body was changing before my eyes. In trying to stand still, she was acutely aware of my gaze on her. If she stood still and I kept my concentration, she’d be soaking wet and very close before I even touched her.
Her nipples hardened in the cool night air. The triangle between her legs was a promise of compliance and unyielding pleasure. The ocean outside the open balcony door would be the background noise to the melody of her cries.
Slowly, I reached my hand forward and touched her belly. It quivered like the undulating ocean behind me. I drew the finger down between her legs and stroked inside her thigh. Her body reacted involuntarily, and I took my hand back.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I said. “You’re already bruised everywhere I want to put my dick.” I kissed her navel then pulled away.
“My mouth is in great shape,” she said.
“So is mine.” I stroked her gently, awakening her nipples. “What if I laid you on that bed and pulled your legs apart. Just the tip of my tongue on your cunt. If I was gentle, would you come, do you think?”
“Yes. I would.”
“Do you like your ring?”
“I love it.”
I stood and wedged my foot between hers, pushing her legs apart. She was used to it and spread them without a stumble. I went behind her. She was framed by the ocean, the curves of her ass blue and black in the evening light. I got on my knees, close to her so she could feel my breath. I waited until the tension was so taut it felt as if it would break like rock candy.
I brushed my finger inside her thigh. She was painted in angry bruises there too. I’d stopped feeling guilty about inflicting damage; I knew the difference between hurt and harm.
“I’m sorry about the party. About worrying you. I was joking, not thinking.”
“I’ll die if you do that again.”
I brushed my fingers over her soft wet lips, slightly touching the dampness.
“I just…”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“That hospital. The smells. The colors. You. It claws at me. In my sleep, I hear the doctors whispering. I dream you’re dying in a room I can’t find. When I think of it, I just think of you in pain. It hurt me. And I’m sorry I’m being self-involved.”
“You’re not being self-involved.” I kissed the small of her back.
“I dread it. I know I’m going to have to go back there with you, and the dread hangs on me.”
I rested my cheek against the curve of her spine and put my arms around her waist. She didn’t move her hands, ever obedient when in scene. I could hear her lungs through her rib cage as they let out short, sharp breaths.
“I didn’t give you permission to cry,” I said gently.
“I’m sorry.”
I pulled away from her and stood. “On the bed, goddess. Facedown. Hands under your thighs. And face the window.”
She did it, and when she automatically put her ass up in ready position, my dick went completely rigid. I pressed her ass down until she was totally flat against the bed. She watched me peel off my clothes. I put pajama bottoms on so I wouldn’t distract her.
“Wait here.”
I went into the bathroom for lotion. The last time I’d done that, I’d seen her negative pregnancy test. I thought about that thing every time I went in there. The burden of it was so heavy that I often went down the hall to piss.
“Are we still in scene?” she asked when I sat at the edge of the bed.
“No.” I put a blob of lotion in my hand and closed it into a fist to warm the lotion.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my birthday, and I can do
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